


Living Fossil

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4831199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Jackie</p><p>Avon makes use of an ancient computer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Fossil

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> Companion to Ghost in the Machine from ttba

If Avon did not see what was on the next table within ten seconds, Vila decided, he would have to buy the next round.

Six Seven damn.

Vila himself could not have moved faster.

'Where did you get that computer?' Avon, at his most charming, asked.

'If I'd known it didn't work, I wouldn't have accepted it as part of the exchange deal.' Vila had grown up doing such work - one of the reasons he had first become interested in locks and how to open them. It could be interesting and provided a good cover - but was not likely to make one rich. There was therefore no contest with life on the Liberator. So long as Avon was there - part of Vila's survival tactics was to follow whoever had the strongest sense of self-preservation.

Avon put a banknote on the table. The dealer looked at him in surprise, but pocketed it.

'For that, you can have the tools that went with it.' Half a dozen pieces, which did not appear to impress Avon.

'Put that in your box of tricks,' Avon whispered to Vila moments later, as the dealer left. It only just fitted.

'And don't tell our glorious leader?' Blake tended to tease Avon on his hobby.

'Yes. Here he comes.'

'Not that I don't appreciate him buying drinks, but why that one?' The colour was distinctive. 'An acquired taste I cannot be bothered to acquire.'

'I must stop agreeing with you Vila.'

 

On the Liberator Blake reminded Vila as he went to return his "box of tricks"- whose change in weight Blake appeared not to notice - of his approaching shift. Avon's cabin was near Vila's so Blake was not suspicious that they walked off together.

'Does this dysfunctional computer have any sentimental value? The one you first dismantled and put back together in a working condition when you were' Vila asked when they reached the cabin Avon had turned into a workroom.

'Eight,' Avon replied, smiling at the memory. Vila understood the feeling of triumph. Avon extracted the handful of newly acquired tools from a pocket in his clothes Vila was unaware of. 'You can have these two, and the one that replaces, if you want.'

'I lend you my tools'

'Half of which you appropriated from me in the first place. Could you return some of them please.'

'Eventually.' Avon had already started browbeating the machine to do something more than flicker erratically. He then started to open it up - more parts than Vila expected. 'So what's so special about this computer-that-won't-work then? It looks slightly old fashioned.' An understatement, as Vila knew.

'It is somewhat over forty years old.'

'Before Tarriel cells?' Vila hazarded.

'You can count,' Avon smirked.

'And if you can get it to work, Orac won't be able to poke its metaphorical nose into what this does.'

'Occasionally you use your brain.'

'Would Servalan buy it if you got it to work?'

'Your brain?'

'No this machine.'

'Servalan is ruthless not stupid.' Avon appreciated practical - and thus measurable - talents and skills over theoretical. One of the reasons he tended to find fault with Blake.

'How many machines are there like this - outside museums and a few universities and research laboratories?'

'Difficult to tell offhand - probably not many.' Vila could tell Avon was curious, even if he had already thought of what Vila was going to say.

'Servalan would want a very unusual machine that the rebel Avon had had.'

'I am not a rebel, whatever they say.' The protest was even more muted than usual.

'But she would be interested.'

'Yes.' Avon agreed. Even if he - probably - had been half tempted to keep the machine to annoy Orac with.

'How different is the programming of this to what you're used to? No more than language differences from one planet to another?'

'A simplification, but yes.'

'A challenge for you - putting files in that look right and have the dates fiddled with, which tie her and hers into knots.'

'Perhaps you should develop your flashes of intelligence.'

'Then I'd be made to work hard.'

'That excuse I believe,' Avon said with a grin. 'Time for your watch.'

'Do you want Orac later? And Ensor might've had some stuff from way back.'

'Yes' Was the remark addressed to him or the interesting bit of computer Avon was now attacking?

Vila could think of better places to go to than Aristo, but also much worse. And he could tease Orac with this machine.

 

'Where is this machine I will not be able to deal with?' Orac asked irritably.

Avon looked up. Vila placed Orac next to its "relative" which now flickered slightly more consistently.

In the discussion that followed Orac expressed curiosity in its "ancestor" while denying that "antiquated objects" - with the exception of certain "extremely specialised models" - could do anything that it could not.

'Could Avon develop something that is an advance on you out of this?' Vila asked, keeping a straight face.

'That would not be possible starting from this model,' Orac answered almost too quickly. 'Nor from any of its predecessors. Little better than abacuses they were, and some of them further apart from me than you and an amoeba'

'You admit to appropriating interesting bits of programming from elsewhere' Vila replied before Avon could make the cutting remark - or several - he obviously intended. 'And if you understand this machine, you will be able to access others like it'

'That matter will have to be considered.'

'What can you tell us about this machine?' Avon asked.

'It is an ancient computer that does not use Tarriel cells.'

'Tell us something we do not know.'

'Where do you wish me to start?'

Avon had been tinkering with the machine as he spoke, and held out his hand for Vila to give him the next tool. It took Avon a few moments to realise he held something unexpected, but was obviously pleased on realising what it was.

'You've talked about it often enough.'

'Where did you find it - or shouldn't I ask?'

'There weren't any more like it there.' A reasonably truthful answer.

'Thank you Vila.' The "I owe you one" was, Vila hoped, implicit.

'Can we get on with this machine?' Orac asked, and gave several instructions. The old computer responded a few moments later.

'Avon - another thought.'

'Careful - you don't want to overtax your brain.'

'And how many locks can you open without a moment's thought?'

'What did I just say?' Vila grinned back. 'What is it then?'

'Orac - how soon before Tarriel cells became general was this type of machine in operation, and this one in particular? And how quick was the changeover?'

'This model just predates the Tarriel cell computer, which came fairly rapidly into general use.'

'And people don't always chuck out things if they are still fairly new, of some vague future use, and have somewhere to put them.'

'The sort of people you know,' Avon replied, blithely ignoring his own collection of "interesting" computer components. 'Continue.'

'So there might well be lumps of old computer programs knocking around in corners of computer memory storage'

'Programming does not come in lumps. My memory does not have corners.'

'Spare areas of computer memory, in which to store back up programs and things of potential use then but which are then forgotten because they were never needed, and never checked because the memory they occupied was never needed.'

'That is a better description Vila. Though you should say forgotten by humans.'

'Why would anyone be interested in information from before we were born?' Avon asked, curious rather than sarcastic as he might have been. 'This part of your plan to confuse Servalan?'

'Do you remember the access tunnel into the bigwigs' apartments - the one they'd forgotten about? All sorts of interesting things discovered before the officials discovered what was going on.'

'Tell me the full details when I'm bored. Very bored.'

'After half an hour of one of Blake's political speeches? Or ten minutes?' Avon laughed. 'Well, I'm sure you two could find some equivalents - those dead bank accounts you were accessing with your scam'

'What use do I have for money?' Orac asked.

'An interesting idea. But most of what will turn up will be junk, forty year old useless gossip, and out of date versions of current programs.'

'The crew of the Liberator should turn their attention to such ideas, rather than pester me with irrelevant questions which they can resolve for themselves.' Orac interposed.

'Unfortunately some people here want to run a revolution and consider you an essential element in their activities,' Avon replied. 'I would be perfectly willing to take you to places we both find of interest.'

'Do not disturb me!' Orac complained. 'Kindly tell Blake not to ask me irrelevant questions, and that we may have to go to Aristo and elsewhere to collect some necessary equipment Preliminary inquires suggest that there are a number of computer research units and museums with the necessary equipment for accessing this type of machine. There are twenty three which provide links to earlier computers still. Most fascinating. What is a Millennium Bug and why are there so many remedies against it? Avon - is this something I might be endangered by encountering?'

'Machine or not,' Vila said, 'Orac has a strong sense of self preservation.'

'Why shouldn't I? I need to carry out my researches. Go on shift. Have some adrenalin and soma. Watch a viscast.'

Vila laughed. 'Just tell us to go away Orac if that's what you want.'

'Do so.'

 

Avon brought his "toy" to the flight deck, having spent much of his free time for the last few days with it.

'So,' Blake said, 'this is Orac's rival.'

'It is a vastly inferior and outdated machine. You might find it useful to deal with some of your many trivial questions.'

'Define trivial,' Blake asked.

'The shortest explanation would require four hours. If you refrain from interrupting.'

'If it can handle most of our questions, perhaps it would be more useful to us than you are.' Blake teased. 'I understand you wish to return to Aristo. If you wish to continue your researches there'

Orac suddenly realising it had made a tactical error. 'It does not have Tarriel cells and cannot access other machines. The questions it cannot answer are the ones you seem to find most important. It is just a machine. Avon has another use for it.'

'Your logic is slipping,' Avon replied, half tempted again to keep the machine to annoy Orac, despite creating an equivalent from modern equipment to investigate the information they were now coming across.

'Orac - go and do some of your research while Avon and I discuss his plan.'

'I cannot "go anywhere" but I will continue with my researches,' Orac replied and switched itself off.

'What was Vila saying about it being his plan?' Blake asked.

'He provided the idea for it.' Avon gave a brief summary of his investigations so far - without mentioning the number of the bank accounts that had persisted after the projects to which they were attached were shut down, or the actual quantities of money involved. It was clear in some cases that others had had the same idea, even if they had never collected all their acquisitions.

'So what, apart from fascinating historical gossip and some assorted moneys have you found?' Blake asked. 'And what is your plan? Vila was saying we could bring down the Federation with it.'

Avon handed Blake some memory units. With luck they would distract Blake for some time. 'A slight exaggeration - but you could cause some inconvenience. These are various pieces of forgotten legislation and suchlike, and several "loopholes" into the Federation's system, mostly obscure.'

'Which you will need no excuse to investigate still further,' Blake said with an indulgent smile. 'I expect no protests when I ask you to pursue the matter.' They both knew Avon would protest, as a matter of form. 'Anything else?'

'There is some evidence that machines such as this, mostly incompatible with modern ones, are used to provide secure systems. Orac thinks that - with some specialist equipment - we might be able to access them.' And contact some of his old friends on the computer developers' network.

'Zen - lay in a course for Aristo.' It was easier than Avon had expected. What had Orac said about giving people the right bait?

'Confirmed.'

'You wanted to go to some other places as well Avon?'

'A few universities and laboratories. It is difficult to know what of the equipment and information required is where. Some of it is probably in storage.' And he might find a bolt hole or three.

'We will investigate the matter, though you two should accept other things may take priority.' Avon nodded. He had got what he wanted, and he could think of ways of diverting Blake's attention if more time was needed. 'And no more than one room full of equipment in the process.'

'Accepted.' Avon smiled. The Liberator had some fairly large storage areas. 'And you decide what is going to fill the spare memory on this computer. I am no politician.'

'And have you decided where you are going to leave this bait? On Aristo perhaps?'

'Sometimes Blake you do have sensible ideas all by yourself.'

'I thought the agreement was that I involve myself in the rebellion, you think up the sensible ideas.' Blake was obviously teasing.

'But you have to be able to think when I do finally go my own way.' Avon replied, slightly unsettled by the implication.

 

'Supreme Commander,' the aide said nervously, fully aware of the Supreme Commander's reputation.

'Yes?'

'It appears that the Liberator has been contacting various specialist computer research facilities, and projections indicate it may be going to Aristo.' The aide did not mention that the information seemed almost too easy to find.

'Interesting.' A trap, probably, Servalan decided, but she would investigate. Avon would expect her to do so. When she had been at university - so that she could acquire connections rather than learning - her family had suggested she seduce him as a useful acquisition. She almost regretted letting him escape to follow his own course. Now, however, if she acquired him, he would belong to her alone. 'Arrange a course for Aristo. See that we do not arrive ahead of them.' They would no doubt be monitoring Federation military movements, and hers in particular. 'And bring me the reports of the last survey of Aristo and Ensor's base.' It was Orac's home ground, and Avon was a computer genius so something might have been missed when the Federation research team had been sent there. And Travis was elsewhere, so would not let his obsession disrupt things as before.

'Yes Supreme Commander.' Just because she hadn't caused problems didn't mean he was in the clear.

 

'I'll retrieve Avon and Orac,' Blake said as Vila was about to teleport up with the last of several boxes of equipment from Ensor's base. Blake suspected Avon would be involved for weeks now in using it.

'Zen says we better leave sharpish - several pursuit ships are on their way.'

'That was the intention.' It required careful timing to " rescue" Avon at the last moment.

Avon was in Ensor's research area, almost dozing off when Blake got to him. Orac was flickering gently to itself, and a small viscast receiver chattered softly. The machine Avon had acquired sat nearby.

'Ensuring the Liberator was not destroyed or victorious during your temporary absence?' Blake asked with a smile. A news broadcast began - the usual uninformative pap.

'I had prepared for all eventualities. You are late.' Avon got up and pocketing the receiver and picking up Orac.

'Is there anything left here that you need?' Blake said.

'No.' Avon looked round. 'From what was left here, Ensor was an interesting man.'

'Vila, take us up.'

'I have much of his collected notes,' Orac stated when they had teleported to the Liberator.

'Not quite the same,' Avon said, with a tone of regret Blake would not have expected from him. 'Let's go.'

Plan completed.

 

As on her previous visit, Servalan was glad to leave Aristo - the Liberator was long gone. As far as she, and those who had surveyed the planet after her last visit, were concerned, the Phibians were welcome to it - the mineral resources of the sea were not valuable enough to exploit. The original computer team she had sent to analyse what Ensor had left had sent in a report that drooled over what had been found - but there was no Orac substitute. The military team sent in after them reported that they had probably removed any computer related spare part they could obtain, which, it was said "would probably have been given to them anyway, and avoided a certain amount of paperwork." Rights of looting, if done discretely, were one of the ways the Federation rewarded its own.

What remained was mainly of obviously antiquarian interest - apart from the object that had been left - presumably by Avon - in what had once been Ensor's main laboratory. It looked like nothing those on Servalan's team had seen before. Once it had been confirmed as safe, they left with it.

 

'What do you mean - this machine would have been worth a large sum of money had it not been for Ensor?' Servalan's fury was making her aide and the technician nervous. 'Initial reports said that it was possibly unique.'

'It was thought to be unique - we have since discovered a number of machines like it elsewhere - involved in some of the secure networks you use.' The technician had received several very interesting offers for the machine while he had been researching it.

'Has this machine been interfered with recently?'

'No. Apart from an unsuccessful attempt to patch a repair program into it.' The technician had decided not to mention the minor anomaly he had discovered. He had erased all trace of his investigations in an area where nobody would have expected him to be. Others after him would overwrite anything he had missed.

'It is what is on the machine that is of interest,' the aide said. 'Much of it was encrypted and we had to make use of experts to decode them.' In fact the technician had managed to work out the principle behind it within minutes but had triple checked his overtime payments and flight path to a safe posting as well. He was dismissed by the aide, and escaped hurriedly, first from the room and then from the base.

'It does not appear that the secure network systems have any connection to Star One.' Although, the aide thought, that would be the sort of joke the constructors of Star One would play - and no doubt it amused the computer experts to make use of overtly outdated systems to communicate between themselves. Not that he would suggest it.

'I am fully aware of the secure networks. This will be my personal access point to it - use the name Sleer, so that they do not recognise me. See it is done.'

'Yes Supreme Commander.'

 

The computer did provide interesting - if ancient - data. Some of the things it connected with were, however, fascinating.

It was a good thing, Servalan thought, that Avon had failed to make use of what the machine could provide - it would have been far more devastating than the unit that had been appropriated from Saurian Major, and its existence would have been completely unknown. As it did not use Tarriel cells, Orac would have not been able to help him.

The machine did not have a transmitter, but some of those it linked up with in the several networks were accessible to Orac. All the checks on the computer had ignored the recognition codes it used in communicating with others of its kind. Nor had it been considered that they programmer might be another computer rather than a human.

Orac had long been aware of the Federation's secondary computer networks, but had not been able to access it readily. The accidental acquisition of this machine - and the Liberator crew's willingness to exploit what it could do - had meant that Orac was able to avoid a considerable amount of work. Perhaps Blake and Avon could be persuaded to acquire other such 'antiquated equipment' to see what could be done with them. If they wished to disrupt the Federation administration that was their concern - so long as they co-operated with Orac's interests.

But, despite all its researches, it never did discover whether there had been an actual Millennium Bug, or what effects it might have had.


End file.
